


Cold

by Aerilon452



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: A/U, Angst with a Happy Ending, Complete, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8483218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerilon452/pseuds/Aerilon452
Summary: Daryl and Michonne were out on a run when they get trapped in a house on a chilly night.





	1. Chapter 1

COLD:

The night had grown cold. Michonne watched her breath float up, beams of silver light from the moon making the hot puff of air visible. They couldn't risk a fire, not with the walkers swarming around them. Daryl sat up, back shoved tightly against the wall while he kept his hunters gaze out the window looking for any corpse that came too close to them. He was cold. She could see it, but she had the only blanket. The exits were barricaded until morning. "I know you're cold." Michonne called out gently hoping he would look at her. Tonight was unseasonably frigid.

"Nah…" Daryl shook his head, a few errant strands falling in his face. "I'm alright." He shrugged shifting his leather jacket around him, moving the warmth over his arms. They had gone on a run, but a herd of walkers had straggled through the town they were scouting. Michonne had taken care of her fair share while she had his back every step. Then they ran to find somewhere they could hole up until morning and make a break for the car so they could get back to Alexandria. They needed to be out here, to stay sharp to protect their people.

Michonne shook her head. Getting up, she walked carefully over to where Daryl sat. She put her back to the wall, slid down until she was sitting in tight next to him, giving him some of her warmth. Michonne pulled the blanket up, draping it over Daryl's lap as best she could. Then she scooted down a little bit more until she rested her head on his shoulder. Survival 101, share body heat when it was cold. And it was cold. "You're freezing." She muttered against his neck, her arm snaking out over his stomach.

"I was trying to ignore it." Daryl replied resting his cheek on top of Michonne's head. The way she sat tucked in against him, her arm over his abdomen made him instantly warm inside. It reminded him of all the times before they were outside the prison on their own, relying only on each other. Daryl had longed to return to that with her. "Why'd you come with me on this run?" He asked. He needed something to talk about with to keep his mind distracted from the feel of her against him.

"Hmmm…." Michonne fixed her gaze on the small gap of the window where the curtain had been ripped away. Just beyond the dirt smudged glass were few walkers stumbling around. "I was getting anxious being there, being around so many people." It wasn't like it was at the prison, and some days, it made Michonne nervous to be around so many normal people. They had been behind those walls since everything started. They were essentially untouched. It made no sense to her, even after she was made a part of Rick's group, his family.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed. "I know what ya mean." He kept his eyes on the window. Even though they were relaxed, soaking in the warmth under the blanket, their minds were on high alert with the herd just outside. The people in Alexandria understood what was happening to the world, but some days they didn't get what it was really like. They wouldn't understand until they had to live on the road.

Michonne felt settled, her eyes drooping from events of the day; the drive, the evasion of the walkers, and now the warmth they were sharing. Her endurance was beginning to wane. Before, with Andrea, Michonne had been able to stay awake for 24 hours before she even needed to slow down. Now, from living in Alexandria for a few months, she was feeling the extent of living in an actual house. A return to the mundane, life before the turn. That was the main reason she came on this run. She wanted to remind herself that she could survive outside the walls.

Daryl shifted slightly, resting the back of his head against the wall. The only sounds to be heard were of Michonne breathing beside him and of his. Outside, the walkers had moved on; at least for now. "We've got five more hours until dawn." He muttered, not sure why it mattered. Before, when they were out, they never felt the need to speak. Michonne made no reply leading Daryl to angle his head to look at her. She was sleeping lightly. A smile painted his lips. At least one of them would be rested for the morning. He could always sleep on the ride back to Alexandria. Besides, they were safe, hidden away, and would be fine for now. The moment anything happened, he knew the katana queen would be up and ready to slay the legion of undead that would be set upon them.

MORNING:

Michonne opened her eyes when she felt Daryl move. He went stiff next to her, his body on high alert. It was then she heard it, the raspy heavy breathing, growling. The sound was coming from the window they were curled up near to keep watch. The rotted flesh of the face, the dead eyes were pressed up against the dirty window. They froze hoping the walker would move on. Under the blanket, Michonne gripped the hilt of her sword. Mentally she scolded herself for sleeping at all. She let herself get comfortable in the midst of danger. 'Stupid! Stupid!' Michonne thought grimly while making sure her face remained placid. She wouldn't move a muscle, not with a walker right outside.

Daryl tensed the moment the undead bastard plastered his ugly mug up against the glass. Strips of skin were hanging off the skull, lips were missing, and teeth were snapping. So far it hadn't seen them. If they stayed still, barely breathing, it would lose interest soon enough and move on. At least that was Daryl's hope. None the less, his finger tensed on the trigger of the crossbow. From the angle, the bolt would shoot through the glass and right through the left eye socket effectively killing the walker. 'Just back off you dead piece of shit.' He thought, his tongue pressing against the roof of his mouth. Beside him, Michonne was awake, she was dead calm, and seeing what he was seeing.

Michonne tapped Daryl's side with two quick taps to signal that she was ready to move the moment it was safe. During their time at the prison, after Woodbury, they had gotten trapped in a shack for two days by walkers passing through. They devised a series of signals that would keep them from speaking in times of danger, yet allow them to communicate. Under the blanket, Daryl tapped her thigh once signaling that they should wait. Her instincts told her to run, to fight, and to kill. Since becoming part of this group, this family, she had to battle her instincts at every turn. Fighting them had been the hardest but she managed because of them; Daryl, Rick, Carl, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha and Carol. They were her family. She could even count Tara, Rosita, Abraham, and Eugene among them.

Daryl kept his left hand on Michonne's thigh in case another signal was needed. As it was, the walker was losing interest. The lunging against the window had lessened, and it would be over soon. Beside him he could feel Michonne's urge to run. It matched his. They were fighters, hunters. He dug his fingers into her thigh giving her reassurance, but most of all he did it because he wanted to keep touching her. Touching Michonne calmed him, which was odd given the danger they were in. The hand she had at his side started to shake slightly. He had noticed that happened right before she was about to kill. Again he tapped for her to wait. This time her fingers dug into his side. She was trying just as he did.

Michonne breathed a slow sigh of relief when the walker moved on from the window. She closed her eyes, touching her brow to his jaw where the bristles of his beard scratched her forehead. "Let's get out of here." She hissed. Her body waited for Daryl to move, to give her the go head that it was actually safe to move. After a few more seconds, he shifted, and she pulled back bringing the blanket with her. They stood up in unison with Michonne making quick work of folding the blanket.

"Hey," Daryl touched Michonne's shoulder. "You ok?" he could see more than tension riding her. It was a pointless question, given the circumstances they were in these days. "For a minute there I thought you was gonna run."

Michonne moved away, tried not to look at Daryl, tried not to let him see the horror in her eyes. Seeing that walker, it reminded her of her first few days after the first camp she lived in fell. It had been a constant state of Fight or Flight. That was before she realized her 'pets' hid her. "No," Michonne answered him. "For a minute I was back to my first few days on the run. It seems to hit me at the wrong times."

Daryl moved to her, mindful of his movements so he didn't cause too much noise that it would draw the walker back. "We all get that." He muttered reaching out with his free hand to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze. He wanted her to know that it happened to him. There were days, when they were killing walkers that for a second he would see Merle, the walker version of his brother. It only made him more determined to kill just to excise that pain he still held on to.

Michonne smiled sadly at him. "Merle?" She asked, even though she knew the answer. His brother's ghost was still lingering around Daryl. "I never said it, but I'm sorry about what happened." Before she thought better of it, she moved in close tossing her arms over his shoulders so she could hug him. Last night, a comfortableness settled between them, so much so that she felt she could hug him and it be just that; a hug. It had been a long time since they could be this close, this in sync with each other. Michonne found she missed it.

Daryl took a moment, dropping his guard, to wrap his arm around her waist, hand covering the hilt of her sword. They had a connection in silence, both knowing what they had to do and how to get task's completed. In silence they could read each other. "Thanks…" He muttered holding on to her a few moments longer. Holding Michonne felt right, it felt better than anything had. Then he pulled back, pulled the silence around him as he always did, and with a jerk of his head he motioned for them to get back to the car.

Outside, Michonne unsheathed her sword just as Daryl raised his crossbow. The area they were in was devoid of any walker activity, but that didn't mean it couldn't change. They had to stay ready while keeping close to each other to protect each other's flank should the need arise. Her senses were on high alert, every sound louder than it should be. Beside her Daryl paused, so she did the same. It gave her a few minutes that she needed to calm down, to center herself, and to focus. Deep breath in, hold. Deep breath out.

Daryl listened to all the sounds around him, separating out the birds, bugs, and smaller rodents from the distant sound of the walkers moving through the trees. The sound that put him on alert was different. It was from a person. They had wolves at the gates, and he was pretty sure it was one of those assholes that was following them now. He moved, putting his back to Michonne's so he could reach back and tap her left side. They enemy was to the left, watching, waiting.

Michonne felt Daryl's warning. They were being watched and she needed to focus on the threat, not on her own personal issues she still had yet to work out. Being out here, alone with Daryl helped like in the old days at the prison when they were go on runs. Up a ways she saw their vehicle and instantly she knew it was too easy. "Somethings wrong." She muttered. "We're being watched."

"Yup." Daryl agreed. "Keep heading for the car." He leaned back, knocking his head into hers lightly, urging her to move. For a second, she didn't move, he could feel the argument in her body. She wanted to fight. Hell, he wanted to fight, but they had to do it on ground that was tactically suitable for them. Again, he touched her left side, signaling her to move. This time, thankfully, she listened.

Michonne did has Daryl urged her to do, hating every minute of it. They were fighters, but they needed better ground on which to engage. She made her way to the car. Her gut told her to stop, to turn and find another way, but she was trusting Daryl. He said go, so she went. They were feet from their vehicle when she stopped, Daryl pressing his back to hers. Her body reacted, her blade finding its home in the body of a human that charged her. The man had a W carved into his forehead. He just stood there, her sword in his chest, buried in his heart, and his eyes glazing over as death took him.

Daryl pulled the trigger, the bolt finding its home in the left eye socket of the slender half-starved man that had come at him. They made no sound as they came out of the trees to attack them. The two men had been quiet, quick, but he and Michonne had been better. He heard her pull her blade free of the other dead man, the steel making a squelching sound as it was pulled from the flesh. He went to his kill, put his boot on the dead body's chest, and bent down to pull the bolt free. Daryl looked back to the tree line, nothing else sent his instincts into high alert. "These two seem to be it." He muttered coming back to his companion.

Michonne sneered at the corpse at her feet wiping her blade off on his shirt. "You think these are the same ones that attacked home?" She asked, and then stopped. When had should started to think of that place as home. Sensing they were safe for the moment, she turned to Daryl and sheathed her sword. "Carol said they had those W's carved into their head."

"Seem to be the same guys." Daryl crouched down to get a closer look at Michonne's kill. There were some people, like the Governor, that could hide the crazy. Then there were others that wore it plain as day for anyone to see. These men, they wore their crazy. It didn't stop him from going through their pockets, and finding nothing f use, except the blades they had in hand when they were killed. Daryl took the bolt in his hand, driving it through the dead man's eye just like they always did.

"We should tell Rick we saw them this far out." Michonne muttered, scanning the vicinity for walkers. They had made sure to be quiet, but who knew with the dead. Any little sound or smell of fresh blood drew them like a pack of hungry animals.

"Why?" Daryl looked up at her. "They're dead. No sense in causing a panic. Nothing we can do about it now. Besides, if they're this far out, they're not as organized." He stood up waiting for her to argue with him. She glanced away, her face making this expression he'd seen several times before. "What?" He asked.

"Nothing." Michonne muttered pulling out the keys to the car.

"That face you're making, is not a 'nothin' face. Spit it out." Daryl growled. He was in no mood for guessing games, and killing people always put him in a surly mood. And he definitely was in no mood for Michonne's turn in demeanor either. At least they were in their element out here. If they got too pissed, they could always take their aggression out on walkers.

Michonne opened the driver's door, sliding in behind the wheel while waiting for Daryl to follow suit. If they were going to talk, she didn't want to do it out in the open. At least in the car, the glass and metal would muffle the sound of their voices. The passenger door opened, and she put the key in the ignition. "I just thought we left this kind of crazy behind when we left Georgia is all." She said, answering his question.

"Crazy is everywhere." Daryl grumbled. "It's not state specific."

Michonne chuckled, "And I thought the worst thing we faced were the cannibals." Beside her, Daryl scoffed.

"Start the damn car." Daryl growled bracing his foot on the dash.

Michonne could tell by the tone of his grumbled words, he wasn't mad. He was just tired. "We got fifty miles to drive. Get some sleep." And she left it at that.

ALEXANDRIA:

Daryl woke up just as the car came to a stop. He opened his eyes to see the rusted, but intact walls, of their new home. Scrubbing his hands over his face, he rubbed the rest of the tired from his eyes. "Made good time." He angled his head looking at her. Michonne's expression was her usual mask of calm, but her eyes told a different story. She was still thinking about those two they killed that morning. "Stop." He said lightly.

"Hmmm." Michonne mumbled turning the keys to kill the engine so the sound wouldn't draw attention to them. She wanted to talk about it, to try and figure out how those people had wound up so far out. Maybe Daryl was right, and they were scattered, disorganized. It killed her that they hadn't been there to protect the innocent people. No, circumstances forced their hand and they had to take care of the massive herd of walkers. They had been up to their ass in walkers while people were being slaughtered. She knew guilt was useless. She couldn't change what happened, but it didn't stop her brain from thinking about it. "I can't…" Michonne looked over at him.

"I know…." Daryl replied reaching over, placing his hand on her knee. He gave her a small squeeze. Michonne had come a long way since first they met, about the same distance as Daryl. It took a lot for them to resist their solitary nature. Now, he wouldn't be anywhere without his family, and he knew she felt the same. They had grown to rely on the emotional support of others. From that he and Michonne had formed an emotional reliance on each other that allowed them to be in sync when they were out here.

Michonne placed her hand over Daryl's as the gates opened for them to come inside. All they had to do was get out of the car. She was watching the sight of Alexandria spread out before them, she nearly missed Daryl turning his hand over, his fingers lacing with hers. When they were alone, out in the world, they didn't talk about many things, but they did talk. He knew things about her, and she knew details about him, that neither had told the group. This morning, after what happened, he knew she needed to drown out the world for a little while.

"Let's get back to the house," Daryl said squeezing her hand before letting go. "There is some hot water calling your name." He opened the door, checking the area for walkers. Daryl got out waiting for Michonne to do the same. She wasted no time in exiting the car and together, shoulder to shoulder, they walked quietly into the compound they called home. Daryl made sure to look at all the faces of the people they walked by on their way down the street to where their two houses were. In one house he stayed with Michonne, Carol, Carl, Rick, and Lil Asskicker. Going on the time of day, no one should be at the house when they got there.

Michonne was looking forward to the house being empty, at least today she was. Normally the thought of joking with Carl appealed to her, talking with Rick helped to settle her mind, but not today. All she wanted today was Daryl's quiet acceptance of a past she couldn't change. Back at the prison, she and Daryl had started something, a kind of understanding, and from it came a closeness that allowed them to have a strange intimacy with each other. Today was the first day she truly needed it since the prison fell. Everything was bottled up, and spilling over to a point that only Daryl could make it all quiet inside her.

Daryl opened the front door of the house listening for any sounds from the others. Thankfully there were none and they would be the only ones home. Looking back to Michonne, he nodded and headed inside. The first thing to come off his body was his crossbow, followed immediately by his vest. Then he toed off his boots before turning to watch her shed her vest and put it next to his. Michonne stepped in close to him, her arms slipping around his waist. He in turn held her close. In the empty house, two emotionally closed off people, at least to those who didn't know them, found some measure of comfort together. "Come on," Daryl kept his arms around her as they turned towards the stairs.

In the large bathroom, Michonne turned on the water as hot as they could stand it. Steam billowed up from the cold tile, fogging up the glass of the shower. Behind her she heard Daryl taking off his shirt, the pop of the buttons sounded so loud despite the water gushing out of the shower head. She couldn't help but shake her head all the dirt and grime one man could accumulate. Then again, removing her own shirt, she wasn't any better off. Michonne could feel all the dust clinging to her skin. Her shirt abandoned to the floor, she reached around and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her eyes stayed locked on Daryl's, even as his fingers started on his pants while hers did the same.

Daryl shed his worn out pants that Carol had to keep patching over and over while keeping his eyes on hers. The last time he and Michonne had showered together had been back at the prison when they had come back from a week long scouting mission. They had been so happy to be back that the first thing they wanted was a shower. It didn't matter to them that they were sharing the same spray of water. Daryl had found an odd sort of comfort from her being there with him, when he was normally a very private person. He could open up to her. He could let himself be touched by her or held. They fit together.

Michonne, freed of her clothing, opened the glass door of the shower so she could step inside to comforting warmth. She hissed momentarily when the water touched her, but a sigh escaped her as the hot jets began stripping the dirt, the oils, and the grime. Then came Daryl's hand to her shoulder, a cloth between her skin and his palm. He did like he'd done a few times before, he moved it slowly over her skin careful to clean away every speck of dirt. Shortly, she would return the favor.

Daryl paid attention to what he was doing, wiping the cloth across Michonne's dark skin. The white of the cloth quickly turned, and he knew he needed to rinse it clean. So, he reached over her shoulder's placing the cloth under the hot stream of water. His chest pressed into her back and her temple knocked lightly against his jaw. Daryl smiled at that. This felt familiar, like the old days Michonne had once mentioned. With the cloth cleared of the first layer of grime they had collected, which astounded him really seeing as they only spent one day and one night away from home, he went to return it to her skin. Michonne brought up a bar of soap for him to use.

Michonne felt another layer of dirt coming off of her with each swipe of the cloth across her back by Daryl's attentive ministrations. Just as the fouled water got sucked down the drain, so did her latest bout with her past; the memories flowed from her body being washed away as easy as the grit. She was watching the soapy water when she felt Daryl passing the cloth over a scar. Michonne didn't mean to flinch, but the memory that surface from that particular scar was a violent one. His left arm snaked across the front of her, his large hand cupping her right shoulder as she leaned her head forward, her chin touching his forearm.

Daryl hadn't been sure what he was seeing, as he never noticed the scar before, and he was well acquainted with her back. "Is it a bad one?" He asked. For now Michonne nodded and that was good enough for him. Daryl was going to wait until she felt like talking about it. While he held her, he ran the cloth up and down her right arm, watching as the soap was carried away by the water. As foolish as it sounded rattling around his mind, tending to her, it helped to ease some of the more unpleasant memories he had swirling around inside his head.

"I nearly forgot that was there." Michonne said, the water muffling her words.

"What happened?" Daryl asked, his lips close to her ear.

"Came across a few people who didn't like the fact I kept walkers as pets." Michonne answered turning to face him. She reached up, her hands cupping his face where she pulled his head under the water. Then, she combed her fingers through his wet mass of hair. He leaned down resting his brow to hers, silently asking her to continue. She took the cloth from his hand, setting it to his chest where she idly worked on taking off a patch of dirt. "It was about a few months after, I was scavenging for food when the walkers got agitated. I didn't know it at the time, but they acted as an early warning system against other humans. I stopped one, but I missed the other." Michonne stopped talking. To this day, she could barely talk about Mike, about what he did.

"I get it," Daryl replied. He truly understood. The scar, it was a moment in Michonne's life, in her survival, when she wasn't as adept at reading the situation, on relying on her instincts. She learned, survived, and got better.

Michonne dropped the cloth down to Daryl's side where what looked like a bullet wound marred his flesh. She'd seen it a few times before, but she never asked about it. "What happened here?" Michonne needed some of the familiar, some of their battle wound talk; like it used to be at the prison.

"Oh, that…" Daryl brought his hand down, covering hers. "Horse got spooked, I got thrown, and a damn arrow went through my side." He said. It was back from their time on the farm while they foolishly looked for a girl that was already dead.

"Carol's little girl?" Michonne asked. She knew the pain of a lost child, and it was that loss that changed Carol, guided her to being the person she was now. One of their runs together, he told her about how they met up with Hershel, Maggie, and Beth. He couldn't tell that story without telling her how Sophia got lost.

"Mmm hmmm," Daryl grumbled. For a long while Sophia was a specter that loomed over them. They all felt the loss when she came stumbling out of the barn.

Michonne nodded. Nothing more need be said on the subject. She contented herself with washing away the dirt marring Daryl's skin, feeling the road hardened muscles, and letting his quiet soothe her. He placed his hands on her hips, keeping her close. This was better than being at the prison. Here, there were no distant sounds of the walkers snarling at the fence. There was just the sound of running water pouring over their heads.

Daryl kept watching her, feeling the way the cloth moved up and down his chest. The steady motion calmed the storm inside him, settled his restless spirit that felt the need to run away, to be somewhere else. He brought up his left hand to cover hers, but she stepped back shaking her head. For a moment he was confused. Daryl didn't know what Michonne was going to do next. She said nothing as she motioned for him to turn around. At first he wasn't going to do it; have gave his back to no one. Too easy for someone to stab him in it. But with her, it was an exercise in trust, and he did trust her. So, Daryl turned around.

Michonne knew Daryl had scars on him, the first time she had set eyes upon them had been by accident that first time. This time, he was trusting her to see them along with his Angel/Demon tattoo on his right shoulder. The scars were old, and they had been deep. She added more soap to the cloth and finished what she started. Michonne took layer after layer off him, trying not to smile at the state they were in. How could two people accumulate so much dirt and grime? She dropped the cloth down to the middle of his right side, when he reached back for her, bringing her arms around his waist.

Daryl tried, and failed, to let Michonne see his back. He couldn't take it, her seeing what his asshole of a father had done to him once Merle abandoned him. The drunk bastard didn't just stop at beating him. No, there had been knives involved. He held her arms around him feeling the light kisses she was giving the closest scar to his tattoos. With each little touch of her lips, some of the remembered pain was pushed down deeper. "You're the only other one to see my back." Daryl said leaning his head back touching hers and letting the water wash over his scalp again. Lingering in the water with her was a luxury.

Michonne felt settled, she could feel it bleeding into Daryl, enough so that she felt she could pull back. "Come on, we've been in here long enough." She moved back, her warmed skin touching the cool tile while Daryl moved under the spray fully. While she watched, he cleaned off the soap and washed his hair. With the last remnants of soap rinsed from his hair, she shut off the water. He shook his head, shaking the extra water from his hair getting the excess water on her. Michonne laughed, wiping the water off of her face. "Nice, very nice."

"Like that didn't ya?" Daryl growled playfully opening the glass door and stepped out. On the counter two towels waited. He took one, securing it around his hips, and then handed her the other one. Along her left thigh he saw the old bullet wound curtesy of his brother when he had been the right hand man of the psycho governor.

Michonne nodded bringing the towel around her torso, "It's infinitely better than that time you gave me fleas." She loved to tease him about that. Daryl pinned her with a glare, but he wasn't mad at her. Then his look changed to something she wasn't sure she was seeing right. "Daryl…" That was the only other word she could get out before he was on her, his lips pressed to hers, stealing the very air from her lungs. She thought she might push him away, but the moment her hands came up, her arms draped over his shoulders to hold him closer.

Daryl needed this small intimate connection to someone who shared his demons. He burned the very taste of her into his tongue. Michonne was strong, she had survived on her own, done things that would give any sane person nightmares, and she was still here. A second later he broke the kiss to rest his forehead to hers. There were a million things he could say, a million things he wanted to tell her, but he just held her close. He took the time to truly feel her, to have the solid weight of her against him.

"What was that for?" Michonne asked taking a deep breath, breathing in the scent that was Daryl Dixon; primal and earthy.

"Don't know." Daryl shrugged, swallowing hard. "Just needed to feel somethin'." Michonne made him feel more than he knew how to handle.

"Yeah," Michonne leaned back, bringing her hands up to his face, "Me too." Andrea, Rick, and Carl may have brought her back from the dark, but it was Daryl who made her feel again.

"Daryl! Michonne!"

Daryl chuckled. Rick's voice filtered up to the second floor. "Looks like we ran outta time."

"There's always tonight." Michonne said lightly angling her head to claim one small kiss before breaking away from him to go to her room and get dressed.

A/N: This is my first Daryl/Michonne fic. I have shipped these two since the first moment Daryl aimed his crossbow at her and she didn't back down. The end of this fic is left open seeing as I might add a second chapter, but for now it's complete. Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daryl and Michonne take a ride

Night had come to the inhabitants of Alexandria, most of them tucked away, sleeping, and putting the day behind them with the hope tomorrow would be better. The same could not be said for Daryl Dixon. He was wide awake waiting for his katana wielding cohort to join him while he was stretched out on her bed, his head on a pillow. This was still so strange to him; living in a house. He sat up, rolling off the mattress to land on bare feet. Daryl left Michonne’s room careful not to make a sound in case he accidently woke anyone else in the house. Rick was mumbling softly in his sleep down the hall. Carl was tossing and turning like always. Carol was as quiet as a mouse, sleeping like a rock probably, or wide awake. He wasn’t sure. Quietly he went down stairs where he saw Michonne curled up in the corner of the couch looking out of the window. “Hey,” He called out softly. “You comin’ to bed?” On the nights they had been holed up, safe from any walkers that might happen upon them, they had shared their fair share of blankets so they didn’t have to worry about a fire giving away their hiding spot. He’d gotten used to asking her that when they were alone.

Michonne had changed from her practical clothing into loose fitting cotton pajama pants, and tank top. It had been too long since she felt safe enough to wear pjs. Always being on the run taught her to do without those small creature comforts. She had brought her clothes down and put them in the basket of laundry that needed to be done and for some reasons she ambled over to the couch, sat down, and drew her knees up against her chest to stare out the window. Everything was so quiet behind the walls, so still. It made her nerves stand on end, made her constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. At first, on the drive, she had thought this place would end up like Woodbury. Nothing in this new world was ever as good as it seemed. But Alexandria had defied her expectations in a good way. If that was the case, then why was she awake? Then, she heard him, and turned. “Yeah, I got distracted.” A smile tugged at her lips at his question. They had their own unique way of talking to each other, and what would seem like a strange question coming from him to her, was completely normal for her to hear. Last night, being curled up under that blanket with him nearly made her forget that it had been months since their last run together. 

Daryl nodded, going to her where he offered her his hand. Until recently, they all had slept in this single room, on this floor. He kept watch by the window, kept close to Judith’s crib, while Michonne stayed close to Carl. “Still thinkin bout earlier?” Daryl asked when Michonne took his hand. He pulled her in close feeling the chill on her skin. What was going through her head to keep her out in this dark living room looking out a window at nothing? He knew why he did it sometimes. He did it because he knew, or at least he felt, that this place would fall at any time much as he hoped it wouldn’t. The safety of this place reminded him of the prison they once called home. There, it had been a tomb. Sometimes, this place felt the same, just prettier to look at.

“Not in the way you think.” Michonne replied resting her forehead against the center of his chest. She could use some of his silent strength right about now. “It was that walker that kept snapin and snarlin at the window.” She added pulling back to look at his face in the dark. “It reminded me of what a monster I was before y’all took me in.” She couldn’t shake the dead face from her mind. Many times before, she’d thought nothing of killing any walker that had crossed her path. They were dead and she wanted to keep breathing another day. It was that simple. So, why was today different? Why did she keep coming back to that face? 

Daryl cupped the back of Michonne’s head, pulling her in against him again. “You ain’t a monster.” He whispered close to her ear. 

“I was,” Michonne turned her face into the side of his neck. “For a long time I was.” For a long time, before Andrea pulled her back from the brink, she was a soulless wanderer with two dead pets for camouflage. She had forgotten what it had been like to be a person, to let people in the way she let Carl in. Rick, Daryl, Carol, Sasha, Glenn, Maggie, Rosita, Abraham, and Tara; they were her family. They were the people she relied on the most in this world. 

Daryl dropped his arms, his hand taking hers again, and then with a small tug he urged her to follow him upstairs. In the dark, he made out the smallest hint of her smile as she followed him up. This was the time of night he liked the best, the time he and Michonne were the only ones awake. This silence allowed them to enjoy each other without even saying a word. 

Michonne followed him into the room she’d settled in. She watched as he stretched out on the bed, his head on the pillow, and his hand gently patting the space next to him. Another smile crossed her lips. It reminded her of all of their hunting trips, the long runs they would go on. She climbed on the bed and crossed her legs sitting beside him. 

Daryl rolled to his side, his knees coming up to brace against her lower back as he rested his left hand on her knee. He knew from the looks she often had that there had been moments in her past that really screwed with her head. Those moments strung together made her believe she was a monster. But that’s not what he saw when he looked at her. He saw someone who survived with the shit got intense. “You don’t gotta tell me more if you don’t want.”

“No,” Michonne shook her head. “I do want to, I just…” She stopped and took a breath. The best way to do it was just to start talking. “When the world fell I managed to survive, my son, my boyfriend, and our friend found our way to a camp.” Once, Daryl and she had come across a house where a child walker was trapped. On that day, she told him about Andre, but only so much as she thought he needed to know. Tonight she would tell him the rest. “For a while the camp was what we needed. Mike, my boyfriend, started to have these shouting matches with Terry about leaving, taking our chances out on the road. I knew we wouldn’t survive out there, not my son.” She paused a moment to take in a shuddering breath, her bottom lip started to quiver. The only other person she’d told this to had been Carl. “Then one day I was coming back from a run to find the fences were down…” 

“Shit…” Daryl rubbed Michonne’s knee. She told him a few details about her son, he could see how it still haunted her, and he never pressed her for more. He figured when she was comfortable, when she was ready, she would tell him. And now she was. This was showing him just how much she trusted him.

“I could hear the moans, the teeth ripping into flesh.” Michonne closed her eyes grimacing at the remembered sight of the carnage. She could see blood stained pavement, bodies ripped apart. “That day I cut down so many, I was covered in blood by the time I made it back to where we were staying.” Michonne placed her hand over the one Daryl had on her knee, gaining strength from the feel of his skin against her. “The moment I got there I knew, I just knew. Mike and Terry were on the floor and there was a blood trail leading to…” Michonne choked on her words, on the emotions rising up inside her. 

Daryl sat up, his arms immediately going around her. He knew Michonne wasn’t one to be held, or consoled in this manner for any reason, but he could tell she needed this. “You don’t have to tell me more.” He said pressing a kiss to her forehead. Her arms went around his torso, her fingers digging into his back. Daryl could feel her silent tears soaking into his shirt. He didn’t back away, he just held her. Gently he started to rock back and forth. 

Michonne didn’t know where all of this was coming from. She hadn’t felt such deep sadness since she told Carl about Andre. Had it honestly been another year since the passing of her son? Since the world had gone to hell, time didn’t mean much. She didn’t keep track of the days, not even within the walls of Alexandria. Now that she was thinking about it, feeling it. It was right about this time that her whole world shifted. “That day,” She whispered. “I became the worst monster in the world.” Michonne forced back her tears, forced herself to lean back from him. “I let Mike and Terry turn. I let them become the monsters that I saw them as after finding my son like that. They were high and they deserved to be bitten, to turn…”

Daryl let her pull away. “Losin what you lost, seein all that, anyone would have done that.” He said. The way things were now, it made people do crazy things. Normal, sane people were thrown into a world that made them hard to survive. Michonne had survived. 

“No,” Michonne shook her head. “Not what I did. I put them in chains, I removed their jaws, their teeth, and their arms. They couldn’t bite, or scratch, and I lost myself the moment I started dragging them around with me.” A few more tears fell down her cheeks, but this time it was because Daryl was looking at her with absolute forgiveness. “Don’t…. Don’t do that…”

“You’re not a monster, not anymore.” Daryl stated with certainty. He knew who she was now. Who she was back then didn’t matter to him. All it meant was that it made her strong enough to come to them, to find them, to find him. 

“But I was….” Michonne breathed out.

“Don’t matter.” Daryl shook his head. “You’re not the same as you were then.”

Michonne angled her head to the left looking at him in the silver light of the moon and stars. “Merle was right.” She muttered. That day when the elder Dixon brother had been taking her back to the Governor, she thought it out of place that he would call his little brother sweet and mean it. 

Daryl wasn’t prepared for Michonne to mention his brother’s name. It still hurt to talk about Merle, to hear his name, or to even think about him and not see him as a walker, and not see his knife being driven into his face over and over again. “Right about what?” He asked, not really sure if he wanted to know the answer. 

“He said you were the sweet one.” Michonne answered bring her hand up to cup his face. “At the time I thought he meant it as a criticism, but you truly see the best in those who don’t have a lot left in them.” Like he’d done to her, she kissed him before he could say anything. She didn’t want him to say anything. It was a light press to her lips to his, nothing like what they shared earlier after their shower. For all the things that Daryl meant to her, she wasn’t ready to cross that line.

Daryl fell back to the bed bringing Michonne with him. He didn’t want to talk, he didn’t want to think, and he didn’t want her to be sad. He just wanted to feel her at his side, sprawled across his chest. He just wanted to kiss her until the world stopped; at least for a little while. His lips moved with her, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of her mouth. Her lips were soft, her hands warm against his chest. This, being with her like this, it was worth the wait. 

Michonne let herself fall into Daryl, let her mind shut down to everything else that wasn’t him. She let her hand feel the beat of his heat, feel the shallow breaths he would take when the need for oxygen was stronger than their need to keep kissing. She pulled back marveling at him lying under her. He smiled wryly at her seconds before he rolled them, putting himself atop her. Michonne sank her teeth into her bottom lip stifling a sudden burst of laughter. How did he do that? How could he make her feel as light as air after telling him what she told him?

Daryl settled himself over Michonne, enjoying the press of her knees against his hips. She told him about one of the true horrors of her past. Rising to his knees he peeled off his shirt. She’d seen, but she hadn’t heard. He turned around, and with a sigh he said. “My dad was a drunk.” Daryl felt her move until she was sitting beside him, her hand resting on his knee. “He started with Merle. Then he left, abandoned me to it.” He chewed his bottom lip and closed his eyes when he remembered the sound of a beer bottle breaking, the angry shout of his old man, and the heavy foot falls that echoed down the hall signaling that he was going to be the outlet of a drunken rage. 

Michonne had figured the scars were from some sort of abuse he’d suffered at a young age. It was why he was so guarded around everyone. That kind of mistreatment at such a young age, she could barely comprehend how people could be so cruel. She rested her cheek on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath before slowly letting it out. “How could Merle leave you like that?” She thought it was because Merle was selfish, but from that little time she spent as his captive, his one and only concern had always been Daryl. 

“He said it was because he would’ve ended up killing our old man.” Daryl grumbled staring at the open door. He could still hear with bitter clarity the angry words he’d said to Merle after the saved some strangers on the bridge. ‘I may be leaving, but you left a long time ago.’ All he wanted at that moment was to get back to his family. They may not have been blood, but they cared about him and he felt the same. For a long time he let the scars on his back, the angry shouts of his drunken father, set him apart from the world around him. Daryl often found his escape in the woods, hunting, tracking; he let it all consume him. And then the world fell. He found a group, and the people saved him when he didn’t realize he needed saving. 

“I’m sorry…” Michonne whispered. She didn’t have anything else to say but that. It was hollow and something everyone said when they had nothing else to say. But she truly was. Daryl was gentle spirit surrounded by a hard survivalist shell. To endure what he’d had made him the man he was, made him the man she admired, and someone she trusted. Michonne moved from his side at the end of the bed to kneel behind him. She saw the sudden rise of tension in his body, the way his back tensed. Gently she placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning in she whispered, “I would never hurt you.”

Daryl nodded slowly. He knew that, he honestly did as he let out a shuddering breath. Her left hand slid down until the tips of fingers were tracing over the nearest scar. For a second his heart beat sped up, the urge to cover himself rising up, but he battled it back. He trusted her, he would keep on trusting her. She traced each horrendous mark on him with such care and tenderness that he didn’t want her to stop. He sucked in a shuddering breath when her palm settled on the parallel burn scars on his lower back. It hit him all at once. That night his father hadn’t just beaten him, he’d changed things up a bit and used a red hot poker to burn him. Against his will, his body started to shake. 

Michonne brought her arms around his shoulders, pulling him back against her. Whatever he was remembering was something too terrible to speak about. Until the memories settled back down she was going to just hold him, kissing the back of his head lightly. “We’re here,” Michonne whispered. “We beat our past.” She reminded him, and also reminded herself. Every morning since coming here, she had to remind herself that she made it, that they all made it. We’re ok. We’re ok. She thought over and over. “Wanna get some air?” She asked and Daryl nodded. He wasn’t ready to speak yet. 

Outside Daryl lit one of the cigarette’s he had stashed in the satchel of his bike parked out front of the house. He made sure that he was up wind from Michonne as she didn’t care for his habit. She never said anything about it, but he knew. He always knew. Just like she knew he needed the hit of nicotine to calm his rattled nerves. Before leaving her room, he pulled on his t-shirt and put his vest on. The weight of the leather was comforting, it helped to chase away the demons that lurked in his memories. Daryl looked at Michonne as she sat on the porch watching him. Then he remembered something. He dug through his satchel again pulling out a packet of stale M&M’s. Michonne’s favorite. “Found these. Kinda forgot about them till now.”

Michonne chuckled seeing what Daryl held in his hand. Taking a deep breath she stood up and took the stale candy from his hand. Been a long while since she’d last come across any, and for Daryl to have found some warmed her, even in light of the pain they each had dredged up inside each other. “Where did you find these?”

Daryl rubbed the pad of his left thumb along his jaw. “Last week, when I was out clearing my head.” He flicked off the ash, before taking another drag, allowing the smoke to fill his lungs. Then he exhaled and put out the ember before sitting down on a step below Michonne. His nerves were calm and his mind was quiet now that his past demons were put back to sleep. It allowed him to take in the peacefulness of Alexandria; the silence. For a little while he could forget that there were walkers outside the wall that would rip them to shreds if even one mistake was made. 

Michonne rested her left hand to the back of Daryl’s neck, idly rubbing her thumb up and down while she stared out at the dark scenery before them. Things were too quiet and yet at the same time, they were quiet enough. It gave them the time they needed to heal, to rest, and regroup bringing their strength back up to where they could better defend their home, and the new people they had taken to. Then, in the midst of her thinking, Daryl tensed. It’s when she heard it too. A walker was somewhere outside the wall. Michonne sighed deeply, “It never ends.” 

“We’ll get it tomorrow,” Daryl muttered picking himself up from the porch steps where he went back to his bike to replace his lighter in his satchel. He looked up to see Michonne coming over to him, and even in the dark of the night he could see the flash of worry cross her face. “Hey,” He touched her arm, “It’ll be ok.” For the first time since the prison, he really believed that things would work out. That life could get better; they could be better. 

“I know,” Michonne mumbled placing her hand on the seat of his motorcycle. She missed this, missed being behind him with nothing but the roar of the engine and wind whipping around them. She missed the feel of his leather jacket beneath her hands as she held on to him, the feel of his abs tensing. Yesterday was the closest to being settled she had felt in a long time when it had only been her and Daryl out there scouting a nearby small town for things they could use. Then at the same time, she didn’t miss it as much. Michonne liked who she was within the walls, and she liked who she was with Daryl here. 

Inside, upstairs Carol held Judith trying to get her back to sleep to give Rick a night of uninterrupted slumber. She looked out the window at Michonne and Daryl standing near his bike. They weren’t saying anything, then again those two barely ever spoke. She knew they had a hunters bond that allowed them to be at ease in the silence with each other. But there was also something else in the way they were standing, the tension she could just about make out. They were restless. When their two best were restless, Carol was put on alert. 

Rick had woken, expecting to hear Judith crying, as it was nearing that time in the early morning hours for her to be waking up. When he heard nothing, he climbed out of bed, and that was when he spotted Carol holding Judith, rocking her back and forth as she stood near a window. He came to her, whispering. “I didn’t hear her cry.”

“She didn’t.” Carol answered. “I was already awake.” 

Rick made no move to take Judith from Carol. His daughter was comfortable, and he could see she was starting to nod off again. “What are you staring at?” He asked looking out the window.

“Daryl and Michonne.” Carol answered. “They’re restless,” She muttered placing a gentle kiss to the side of Judith’s head. “When they can’t sleep, I can’t sleep.”

“Why?” Rick asked watching the way Daryl moved in close to Michonne, leaned in, and rested his forehead to hers. 

“They’re two of our best.” Carol stated. “They have a way of knowing when trouble is coming. I’m not talking about that massive herd that got diverted. That had to happen. I mean threats from other people.” She could see the way they stood, they was they watched everything around them. “They sense something is coming. Why else would they be awake?”

“Maybe they just can’t sleep,” Rick shrugged. He knew there was threat brewing in the world outside the walls. The wolves that had attacked, there was no way to know if they would be so bold to try again. “They seemed reluctant to talk about what happened out there.”

Carol nodded, looking over to Rick. “Go on back to sleep. I’ll put Judith down.” He touched her shoulder, content to leave his daughter in her care. She stayed at the window keeping watch as two of their own stood together.

Outside Daryl looked towards the wall again, hearing the weak banging of the walker against the weathered metal that kept them all safe. “Wanna go for a ride tomorrow?” Since fixing up the bike in Aaron’s garage, he was itching to go beyond the wall and ride, just ride. Not just the slow meandering pace he had to keep up so the herd would keep following them. No, he wanted speed, the freedom to go as fast as he wanted and not worry about drawing out a pack of undead bastards.

“How normal,” Michonne chuckled lightly. The thought of a ride tomorrow excited her. She had told Rick she was done taking breaks, but this wasn’t what that was. It was them, like they had been in the old days that weren’t really that old. For now things had calmed down enough that they could go on runs, they could go beyond the wall and walk through the forest with minimal incident. A ride with Daryl would be safe enough; at least she hoped. 

“What the hell else we got to do?” Daryl growled. “I think we’re due just one day.” Some days it was selfish to want to have something normal happen to them. This world was dangerous, it would kill anyone without remorse. Even though their days were numbered, but if this world taught them anything, it was to take every moment they could. Daryl wanted to take this one day with her, to do something that suited them both, and enjoy it before the inevitable shit storm that always found them came crashing down, launching them once more into the fray of survival.

Michonne nodded. “We are due.” She ripped open the packet of M&M’s and popped a few of the stale chocolate candies into her mouth where she chomped loudly. Daryl only shook his head at her. She turned from the bike and headed back to the porch. Once she was on the top step she noticed he wasn’t behind her. Glancing back at him she said, “If we’re going for that ride, we should sleep a little bit don’t ya think?” She wasn’t even remotely tired, but she would try none the less. 

“Mmm Hmm…” Daryl nodded again leaving the side of his bike to join her on the porch. He stepped up, locked his eyes with hers, and stole a few of her M&M’s. She didn’t even look annoyed at him, she just smiled and knocked back a few more of the candies. He actually felt playful, even given what he’d told her, what he showed her. Michonne made him feel like he didn’t have to be ashamed of the scars. She accepted him, all of who he had been, and all of who he was now. He didn’t feel like sleeping as he followed Michonne inside, but that wouldn’t stop him from staying with her all through the night. Daryl would guard her while she slept.

 

MORNING:

 

Michonne woke in her bed, lying on her side. At first she was disoriented. She never slept on her side. Then she remembered, she had fallen asleep facing Daryl as he relaxed on his side. But he wasn’t there now. Her eyes slid to the clock on the bedside, seeing that it was seven in the morning. He let her sleep an hour past her usual wake up time. Sitting up, Michonne stretched her arms above her head, feeling her back pop. She scooted over to the edge of the bed, putting her feet on the floor, applying a little pressure to reassure herself that this was all still real. Then she gave a listen, waiting to hear movement downstairs. Lightly, laughter filtered up through her open bedroom door, and that brought a smile to her face allowing her to get up and get dressed. 

Down in the kitchen Daryl drank a glass of water while he eyed Carol moving about the stove. Oatmeal was simmering and powdered eggs were cooking. The smell of it still seemed so strange to him. Living in a house was strange. Being around other people that weren’t his group was the strangest of all. But he was going to keep making efforts to live here, to live inside the walls, and he was going to try to keep hope alive that this was the last place they were going to live. “What?” He asked when Carol turned the burners off and stared at him. Distantly he was aware of Michonne moving right above his head. His lips wanted to curve into a smile at the thought of the ride they were going to take today. Maybe while they were out, he would see about tracking some deer, or at least finding tracks to use for later. 

“You and Michonne ok?” Carol asked seeing the shift in Daryl’s mood. He and Michonne had been different when they had come back a day late from a simple scouting run. They wouldn’t talk but to say they got cut off by a small herd, and they left it at that. Then they were up and moving last night, standing outside. It made Carol go on alert from their actions. 

“Yeah,” Daryl furrowed his brow. “Why?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the reason Carol was asking. What he had with Michonne was something vastly different than what he shared with her. He and Carol had an understanding about their mutually horrific past. She had husband who used to beat her, even in the camp, and she had survived it. Daryl never felt comfortable enough to talk about it. At least not with Carol, but he knew he could with Michonne. He didn’t know why and he didn’t question it. 

“You two didn’t sleep much last night.” Carol answered. She had stayed awake listening to them mutter to each other until she assumed sleep took one or both of them. 

“How do you know?” Daryl asked downing the rest of his water. He had watched Michonne as she slept, at least he had until his eyes lost the battle and closed allowing him to get some rest too. Then when he woke up, he wanted to let her sleep just a little while longer while he fueled up the bike, and got some provisions together for their day beyond the wall. 

“Cause I didn’t sleep,” Carol replied. “Haven’t much since the attack.” When she closed her eyes she saw the faces of the dead, and not just the dead in Alexandria; all the faces of those she’d killed. 

Daryl nodded and then looked behind him when he heard footsteps. It was Michonne. She had on her leather vest, her purple tank top, her black pants, and her boots with her sword in place across her back. This was the warrior he’d come to admire, respect, and to trust. This was Michonne in all her glory. “Mornin’.”

Michonne smiled at Carol, then looked to Daryl, “You let me sleep.” It wasn’t meant as an accusation. She actually felt refreshed for the first time since coming to this place. Michonne had gotten to fall asleep to the face of someone she cared about. Daryl being with her, beside her, had let her feel safe enough to fall into a deep sleep. 

“Yep.” Daryl nodded getting up to refill the glass before handing it to her. She took it from him and he chewed the inside of his bottom lip when she put her lips where his had been. “I fueled up the bike, got a few things together for whenever you’re ready.” He stated. His leather jacket, vest over it, were already on him. He had a pair of sunglasses in the inside pocket to protect his eyes on the ride, and he managed to scavenge a pair for her. 

“Sounds good,” Michonne finished the water in her glass, then set it on the marble island counter. She moved until she could rest her arm on the cool counter and then asked, “Do we have a destination in mind, or are we just going?” 

“You two are going out again?” Carol interrupted. “I thought Rick would want to keep you close to home today.”

“Won’t be gone all day,” Daryl looked at Carol. He knew she was concerned. “Thought we might try and track some deer for later.” He looked at Michonne when he added that last part. She silently agreed with him. There were only so many casseroles a man could eat before he wanted some real food. 

“Still, after what happened….” Carol started to say. 

“Nobody died,” Daryl cut in. “Michonne and I are fine.” He felt her tense beside him. They hadn’t exactly told Rick, or the others about the two they’d come across. Maybe when they got back, he’d tell Rick. 

“That was yesterday,” Carol argued. “You don’t know what, or who, could be out there today.” She wanted them to be careful. 

“Nothing’s going to happen.” Michonne tried to sound reassuring. She tried to believe it herself. More than anything she just wanted this to be a normal day, or about as normal as they could get in this world. “Carol, we’ll be ok.”

“Just don’t take any chances,” Carol said. 

“Us? Chances? Not gonna happen.” Michonne said trying to change the tone of the room. 

“Yeah,” Carol furrowed her brow. “You said that at the prison too.”

“That was one time,” Michonne chuckled. “And it wasn’t even my fault.” She slid her gaze to Daryl. He only scoffed picking himself up from the stool to head to the door. “We’ll see you later.” Michonne said before going to catch up with Daryl. 

Outside, Daryl was astride the bike, his glasses in place when he saw Michonne jog down the steps coming to him. She pulled on a jacket, zipped it up, and accepted the pair of shades he handed to her. “Ready?” He asked over his shoulder when she swung her leg over, and sat behind him. 

Michonne wrapped her arms around Daryl’s waist and said, “Let’s go.” The bike came to life with a rumble. This felt right. This was familiar. Michonne tightened her arms on his waist, resting her chin on his shoulder as Daryl guided the bike away from the curb and down the street towards the front gates. They passed by a few early morning people who had jobs, Michonne could place a few of them. Olivia worked in the pantry as well as the armory. She knew that the woman used to work in a coffee shop and still carried her cell phone around with her everywhere she went. Daryl had once chided her about not staying in one place for very long. Now, she was living with these people full time. He was right. She could pick up a few things when she stayed around. 

Daryl slowed up when came upon the gate; Tara and Eugene were taking a shift today. Without needing to tell them, Tara went over to the massive latch, pulled it free, and pushed the gate on the runners to open it for them. Then the rusted iron bars screeched as the weather metal rubbed together when Tara opened the outer gate for them. His hands tightened when the road was revealed to them. He always felt that first rush of freedom when the gates were opened, his wild heart beat faster knowing that he belonged outside the walls; the hunter in him that longed to be lost in the wilderness with nothing but his skills to protect him. That was the side of him he had to wrestle with every day, the side he had to deny. At least until he and Aaron were on long haul’s, looking for good people. If there were any left that didn’t live in here already. “Ready?” He asked her over his shoulder, revving the throttle. 

“Yeah,” Michonne answered, nodding slowly with her chin still resting on his shoulder, and her arms tensing around his waist. Daryl released the brakes and away they roared through the gates of Alexandria. She was never so happy, and uneasy at the same time, to be back out on the road. Her heart thundered as he increased the speed. It was wonderful to not have to worry about how much sound was being made. Not since the massive herd was diverted north and away from them. They may be a few lingering walkers, but nothing that put them in serious danger. She knew she could face any threat with Daryl at her back.

Daryl felt the moment Michonne settled fully into him, losing herself in the ride. He sped further and further from their new home. They thrived in the group, made a place for themselves, but where they were truly able to be who they were was out here on the road. Before, they were different people. He knew Michonne was strong willed, yet she had a gentle side that she could show; especially with Judith and Carl. Now, she showed the same side to him. Daryl treasured that more than he would ever be able to tell her. All those months at the prison, the weeks she would be gone at a stretch, he couldn’t help but miss her, worry silently that she hadn’t found some sort of trouble she couldn’t fight her way out of. Every day he woke up, seeing her, was another day that he promised to keep her alive. 

Michonne let the roar of the motorcycle bring her back to the first time Daryl had gotten her on a bike; his bike. It wasn’t long after the Governor was defeated, they had new people to care for, and they needed food. They didn’t know where they would go, but they had to be quick. So, Daryl talked her on to the back of his powerful bike, and they sped down to road. It had been only them, the landscape of Georgia around them, the occasional walker, and nothing else. Together they had found many places that had medicine, dry goods, and various other things. At least it had been the case until Michonne couldn’t stomach the Governor being alive one second longer and she ran under the guise of her search. It took her months, and Daryl pointing it out that her trail had gone cold to give up the quest for vengeance. She was glad she failed. Letting it go gave her more time with the people she cared about, but it also came with a heavy cost. They lost the prison. They lost Hershel. 

Daryl drove for a while, seeing how long he could keep up this normalcy for him and Michonne. The road he’d taken was one they hadn’t traveled before. It was a clear crisp morning, the perfect weather for a ride perfect weather to have her pressed tightly to his back letting the heat of her bleed into him as the cool air whipped around them. He liked the way she had her hands on his chest and over his stomach, the way she had her chin on her shoulder. After a while, Daryl slowed, until he stopped, and then lowered the kick stand so the bike wouldn’t fall over. He took a listen as he always did, making sure there were no walkers. The only thing to greet his ears was silence, occasionally broken up by the sound of different insects and small creatures. “Wanna head into the woods and see if we pick up some deer tracks?”

Michonne brought her hands from around Daryl’s waist to place them on his shoulders when he started to slow down. “Sure,” she answered swinging her leg over the bike. Her muscles twitched from the vibrations of the motor. It had been too long since she had last been on a motorcycle and it took her longer than she would have liked for the quivering in her legs to stop. She rubbed her hands up and down her thighs in a meager attempt to chase away any lingering feeling. All around them, the silence was deafening, but welcome. They weren’t on alert, they weren’t at the ready to kill. Michonne, more than anything, was ready to be absorbed in the task of picking up deer tracks. Daryl led the way down off the pavement and into the tall grass that came up to his waist. She willingly followed him, taking the time to admire the scenery in front of her, and she wasn’t looking at the trees.

An hour of walking, the terrain hadn’t given Daryl any tracks to pick up. The ground was too dry from lack of rain. He and Michonne could keep walking, or they could turn back. Looking over at her, she wasn’t paying attention to him, but looking through the trees to her right. It gave him a few minutes to contemplate his companion. Things were shifting, the dynamic of the group, the way they lived in Alexandria. She was alert, but she had an edge of calm to her that he could feel. They were alone with only her sword and his crossbow, but he didn’t sense any immediate threat. Not like it had been yesterday morning when they both sensed eyes on them. It had been too long since he felt he could let his guard drop, if only for a few hours. 

Michonne knew Daryl was watching her while she watched the trees, searching for any sign that there were deer they could come back and hunt. She almost wanted to turn, to stare at him in return, but she found she liked the feeling it gave her. Safety. It was a strange feeling that one person could give her that. Mike had never made her feel like that. While Daryl stared at her, she kept looking through the trees; her eyes scanning back and forth. “You gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna look for some tracks?” Michonne asked looking at him from over her shoulder. He scoffed, moving to stand shoulder to shoulder with her. Gently, she bumped into him letting the calm serenity of the woods fill them. 

Daryl shook his head. “There’s nothing here.” He grumbled, but he wasn’t saying they should turn around and leave. Deftly he slipped the strap of his cross bow across his body and then set off further into the woods. He didn’t hear Michonne following him. When he turned, he didn’t see her. There was that moment where instinct told him to panic, but he knew her. He knew how well she could vanish without a trace when she wanted to. “Wanna play games huh?” He muttered, and then turned. “Geez!”Michonne reappeared behind him. “Really?”

Michonne shrugged, a wry smile on her face, her hands behind her back. “What? Thought I saw something.” She said and he scoffed at her, but he wasn’t angry. Actually she wasn’t sure what it was she saw. At first she thought it had been that girl that Carl was smitten with, but the form vanished before she could get a good look. At Daryl’s questioning look, she added, “It wasn’t a walker. I thought I saw a person.”

“Seeing things now?’ Daryl asked, meaning it as a joke.

“I always see things.” Michonne answered. Before he could ask her what she meant by that, she went ahead and explained. “When Mike turned, I didn’t see him as a walker; not all the time. I saw him as he used to be, but with no arms, and now jaw.” They were in no immediate danger allowing her to open up to him more. “I used to talk to him…”

Daryl nodded. It had been different for her, she’d been alone where he had a group of people. He got the sense that even with Andrea bringing her back from the brink, she still wasn’t a whole lot social. There was nothing he could say to that, nothing Michonne hadn’t told herself before.

“Does that make me sound crazy?” Michonne asked lightly. 

“Nah,” Daryl shook his head. “Not crazy, just human.” 

“Good.” Michonne didn’t feel the need to be out here anymore. “Let’s go home.” She whispered motioning her head back in the direction of the road. He nodded, agreeing with her, and together they left the woods, leaving the need for solitude behind. For now at least. 

 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the second chapter. It was a little longer than the first and I had fun writing it. Thanks to everyone who read my story. It was fun delving into this world and writing these two wonderful characters.


End file.
